


Let's Hang out Sometime

by SunflowerSupreme



Series: Kinktober 2020 [16]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Bondage, Figging, Food Sex, Ginger - Freeform, Handcuffs, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Safe Sane and Consensual, So much consent it makes Dandelion roll his eyes, Tickling, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, extreme consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme
Summary: Whumptober Day 1: Let's Hang Out SometimeKinktober 2020: Foodplay, Bondage, Tickling
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Kinktober 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959532
Comments: 11
Kudos: 126
Collections: Kinktober 2020, Whumptober 2020





	Let's Hang out Sometime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ReinaQueenofDemons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinaQueenofDemons/gifts).



> ReinaQueenofDemons wanted a return of the ginger, so here you are my lovely.

“When I get my hands on you, boy, you’re dead.”

Dandelion snickered. He was shirtless, perched on a dresser halfway across the room, his cornflower blue eyes gleaming with mirth. “You’d have to catch me first,” he pointed out. “And I don’t think you’re getting out of here anytime soon.”

Geralt let out a huff. When he’d invited the man to live with him for the duration of the pandemic he hadn’t expected to wake up shackled to his own bed. Perhaps he should have, it was Dandelion after all. The singer was nothing if not a horny bastard. Ever since Dandelion had realized that Geralt’s senses ignored him - meaning he could sneak around the Witcher when he was asleep without waking him - he’d been talking about all the things he could do to him.

Geralt had thought it was a joke.

Apparently it wasn’t.

“You’ve made your point, brat,” he said sharply. “Now let me go.” One disadvantage of having a four poster bed was that there were four easy points to tie people to. Usually it was an advantage, since he liked tying Dandelion to them, but sometimes it was more of a problem when he found himself tied up. 

“I don’t think I will.” Dandelion hopped off the dresser happily, bouncing across the room until he was at the foot of the bed. “Oh Geralt, I have so many ideas.”

“Unless they involve breakfast, I’m not interested.”

“Oh, well, I’m afraid breakfast will have to wait.”

“Just tell me you haven’t lost the damn key.”

That was when Dandelion made his error. Without seeming to realize what he was doing he patted his shirt pocket. Clearly that was where he’d stowed the key. Geralt pretended not to notice as the singer said, “Of course not, Geralt, what do you take me for?”

“A fool.”

Dandelion only laughed and waved his hand. “Geralt, don’t be absurd. I won, don’t you see? That means I’m in charge for the day and I get to do whatever I’d like to you.”

“Like what?” All he needed was to lure Dandelion closer to the bed.

The singer pursed his lips. “Anything I want,” he said haughtily. But he didn’t move closer.

“Planning to stare at me from across the room?” snorted Geralt. “Do enjoy that, Dandelion, and bring me some toast while you do.”

“I’m going to fuck you,” crowed the bard. “I’ve conquered a Witcher, I deserve my reward, don’t you think?”

“I suppose you’ve out bratted me, if nothing else.” 

Dandelion stepped up to the bed, his eyes gleaming. “You’re only angry because I outsmarted you.”

As soon as Dandelion was close enough, Geralt wrapped his legs around the singer’s hips and twisted his lower body upwards.The man went down with a yelp, falling face first into Geralt’s chest. It wasn’t hard to get the key after that, as Dandelion tried to get away he crawled over Geralt’s shoulders and the Witcher snagged the key, then knocked Dandelion down again, wrapping his legs securely around his neck.

Dandelion struggled and yelped, but he couldn’t do much with his face pressed into Geralt’s crotch. The Witcher unlocked the cuffs easily, then snapped them onto Dandelion’s wrists, leaving him in the same position Geralt had woken up in.

“Who outsmarted who again?” Geralt asked.

“Shit,” Dandelion grumbled. "Geralt my love, have pity." 

Geralt made a point to put the key well out of Dandelion’s reach. “I’m going to eat breakfast,” he said irritably. “And when I come back, I’m going to take my belt to your ass.”

* * *

He made a point to take his time eating, knowing there was no way in hell Dandelion would get himself out of the cuffs (the bard periodically shouted at him. At first they were pleas for Geralt to come back, then it devolved into various insults when it became clear he wasn’t going to get his way).

Once he’d finished his meal he washed the plate and put it away. Before going back upstairs Geralt grabbed a glass of ice water and a fresh ginger root he’d bought the last time he was at the store. He liked making ginger tea, but there were other things he could do with it.

Dandelion was clearly pissed, when Geralt returned, thrashing about on the bed with a scowl. “You know it’s not safe to leave a partner tied up?” demanded the singer.

“You know I can hear your heartbeat from downstairs?” Geralt leaned in the doorway and began carving the ginger.

Dandelion squinted at him. “Geralt that had better not be what I think it is.”

Geralt took a bite out of an extra piece of ginger. Dandelion swore. “Geralt, I hate ginger,” he whined.

“What do you say if you want me to stop?”

“Red to stop, yellow to talk,” muttered the singer.

“What color are you?”

Dandelion sighed and looked away, his face red.“Green.”

Geralt chuckled.

He dropped the ginger in the water and sat it on the bedside table, then sat on the foot of the bed and began easing off the sweatpants Dandelion was wearing. The singer put up a token fight, but his heart clearly wasn’t in it. Soon, he was stripped nude, exposed for Geralt to enjoy.

“Lift your knees.”

“Make me.”

Geralt was happy to oblige. He grabbed the key from the dresser and unlocked the cuffs, then forced Dandelion off the bed. He bent him over the foot of the bed, shackling his wrists to the columns that rose from the base.

Dandelion swore and cursed the whole time.

“One of these days,” Geralt grumbled. “I’m going to wash your mouth out with soap.”

Dandelion snickered. “Fuck you, you cocksucker.”

“I wouldn’t talk like that when you’re about to get a spanking, Dandelion.” Leaving the singer tied in place Geralt fetched the ginger. He offered Dandelion the glass of water, helping him to take a few sips (he pulled a face a the slight taste from the ginger). Then he sat the water aside.

Dandelion wiggled as Geralt rubbed his thumb over his hole. “Relax boy,” he said. Using lube to get the ginger in would dilute the sting, which was the last thing Geralt wanted. The bard obediently relaxed his muscles, and Geralt was able to dip the pad of his thumb in after a few more strokes.

“Good boy,” he praised.

The singer squealed when the ginger entered him, even though Geralt doubted it had even started to burn yet. “Color?” the Witcher asked.

“Green.”

He patted his back and murmured a soft praise. Dandelion melted under the affection. Geralt took a leather belt off the hook by the closet, winding it a few times around his wrist, watching his partner as he did so. “Can you feel it?”

“Y- yeeess.”

Geralt slapped the belt over his ass and Dandelion yelped.

“Color?”

“Fuck! Geralt, I’ll tell you if it changes!”

“Color now, Dandelion, or we _stop_.” It was something he insisted on. Dandelion had a bad habit of letting lovers push him too far - it hadn’t ever happened with Geralt, but more than once, before quarantine, Geralt had been the one to patch him up after a scene went south (Dandelion refused to give Geralt the names of the partner who had injured him, but he suspected it was Valdo).

As a result, Geralt was hyper vigilant to know how Dandelion was feeling at all times (and, despite his protests, he knew the singer appreciated it). With something like ginger that he knew Dandelion was hesitant about to begin with, there was no such thing as being too mindful. 

“Green.”

“Good boy.” He struck the belt over his ass again, making Dandelion whine and pull at the cuffs.

Geralt peppered him with fairly gentle strikes, letting the ginger do the work for him. Every time he hit him Dandelion clenched around it, activating more of the burning sensation and yelped.

It was almost musical the way it played out. The belt would crack, Dandelion would jump, then he’d clench and yelp.

He kept the strikes uneven, keeping Dandelion off guard so he wouldn’t know what to expect. Soon the singer’s ass was a a light pink, just enough that he’d be hesitant to sit for the rest of the day.

Geralt took a step back and struck his belt firmly across the middle of Dandelion’s ass, far harder than the other strikes. Then he dropped his belt and rested his hand on the inflamed flesh.

Dandelion whined and sobbed, sniffling pathetically as his nose threatened to run. Geralt took pity on him and fetched him a tissue, helping him to blow his nose, then wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve.

“Are you angry with me?” Dandelion whimpered, peering up at Geralt through tear soaked lashes.

“No,” the Witcher promised. “No, Dandelion, I’m not cross. I’ll let you tie me up sometime, if you like, but don’t let me get the key next time.”

“I won’t.” 

Geralt kissed his cheek. “So what exactly where your plans, once you had me at your mercy?”

“I thought it might be fun to tickle you.”

He laughed. “Oh? Are you ticklish, boy?”

“No!”

Geralt’s eyes gleamed. He unlocked Dandelion’s wrists, then returned him to his place on the bed, sitting against the headboard with his sore, ginger filled ass pressed into the sheets. Then he locked the cuffs back where they’d started.

“Geralt!” Dandelion kicked his feet. “Don’t you dare! Geralt!”

The Witcher laughed as he hopped off the bed, opening the chest that contained Dandelion’s collection of sex toys. Sitting on the top, clearly intended for use soon, was a feather flogger.

“No!” shrieked Dandelion as the Witcher advanced on him, feathers in hand. “Mercy! Mercy!” He kicked his feet and pulled at the cuffs to no avail.

He sat on Dandelion’s legs to pin him, then slowly ran the feathers over his chest.

The singer squealed and shivered. “Geralt!”

“Color?” Geralt laughed.

“Green!”

He ran the feathers down the bard’s arm, then back up, rubbing it over his underarm. Dandelion struggled and gasped, grinding his punished ass into the sheets. Every touch of the feathers on his exposed skin brought equal noises of pain and pleasure.

Eventually Geralt grew bored of the feather flogger and tossed it aside. Instead he cupped Dandelion’s back and pulled him forward, pressing his face into his chest and blowing raspberries. Dandelion squealed and wriggled.Geralt peppered him with kisses across his chest, then sucked gently on his nipples as his fingers tickled his sides.

Dandelion’s face was flushed red as his leaking cock, which jutted proudly against his stomach. Geralt gave it a few lazy strokes, just enough to get him to the edge, then resumed tickling him.

“Fuck you,” moaned Dandelion. Then, hopefully, he asked, “Fuck me?”

Geralt smiled and tilted his head, stroking hair out of Dandelion’s face. “I’m not interested in getting ginger oil on my cock.”

“Damn.”

Geralt slid his pants down enough to let his cock out, then grabbed lube from the beside table. Dandelion moaned in excitement as Geralt poured a bit onto his hand, then laid himself on top of Dandelion, pressing their cocks together. He stroked them both as he continued to kiss Dandelion, on the mouth this time. The singer returned his kisses greedily, leaving them both gasping for air.

As Dandelion neared his climax Geralt let go of him but continued stroking himself as the singer looked on in horror. “Geralt!” he wailed.

Geralt said nothing, coming with a groan and painting Dandelion’s stomach with spend.

“I earned this! Geralt! Touch me!”

The Witcher snorted. “No Dandelion, all you’ve earned is a cold shower.”

“Please, Geralt, _please_.”

Geralt pressed a kiss to his stomach, carefully avoiding touching his cock. “Color?”

“Yellow. I don’t like being cold,” Dandelion whined.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, and wrapped his hand around the singer’s cock.

“I love you,” Dandelion moaned as Geralt began to stroke him. It didn’t take much for him to spill over Geralt’s hand with a loud cry. The Witcher offered his fingers to him and he lapped up his own spend greedily, sucking on Geralt’s fingers as he slowly drifted down from his postcoital bliss.

“Good boy,” Geralt soothed, swirling his fingers through Dandelion’s mouth. “Such a good boy.”

Once his hand was sufficiently clean he fetched the key to the handcuffs and released Dandelion, pulling him gently into his arms and rubbing his back.


End file.
